01/02/02 - 7:23 p.m.

Finally, the furious holiday frenzy is finished. Time to breathe again.

A few surprising issues arose at home. Such as the impending death of Mum. It seemed to lurk in the front of everyone�s mind and they constantly made some kind of remark about it whenever Mum was out of hearing distance. My Uncle, (her brother), pulled my brother and I over in a huddle to lecture us on keeping in contact with Mum since she is knocking on Death�s door.

Wait a minute, I think I need to check my ID. Wait�wait�no it says right here, not born yesterday. Gee Uncle, what the fuck could of ever given you the impression that I was an unaware baby? The sermon was so infuriating, but Brother and I did nothing except make a lame attempt at defending ourselves. Brother gave me an exasperated look over the top of Uncle�s balding head. I just nodded, even in our twenties there is no escaping the incredible amounts of individuals who feel the need to be parental.

Grandmum, Mum�s mum, took the time to discuss Mum�s death preferences over dinner. She mentioned that Mum has no desire to be attached to a respirator for more than three weeks and that Dear Old Dad had gone homicidal at the suggestion that she should sign a living will. While I can believe in Dear Old Dad�s tendencies to scream, curse and embarrass (not to mention frighten) everyone with his angry antics, I am also reminded of Grandmum�s penchant for exaggeration. Of course, Mum has mentioned none of these things to Brother or I.

My future algorithm was to just ask Mum what she truly wanted., then have a discussion with Brother. Unfortunately, I was not alone with Mum at any point during the holiday and so was forced to proceed with step 2 without even analyzing the best way to go about step 1.

Brother and I agreed to go up against whoever thinks they are in charge of Mum�s death wishes when the time comes. When I hesitantly told him that I was unsure of whether or not I could give an order to pull the plug, he confessed that it would not be a problem for him. I see myself leaning heavily on Brother when the time does come. Lord knows I will be a belligerent mess and having to give any kind of authoritative decision could send me in the psychiatric ward beneath Mum�s ICU bed.

I hate knowing that I will be undependable. The worst would be pushing off anything onto Brother�s shoulders. I have felt that it is my responsibility to protect him my entire life, but when it comes to making the hardest decision we will ever face, I don�t know if I can do much of anything besides burble incoherent mush.

But I will keep one promise and ask Mum what she wants. I have to form some sort of a kind email asking her what her own wishes are.

If only it were Dear Old Dad in the death chair, I will have no qualms about pulling that switch.

Actually, now that I think about it, even that seemingly easy action would give me quite a bit of pause. I am such a head case.